


Unfit

by Nyssa



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyssa/pseuds/Nyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky served.  Hutch didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfit

**Author's Note:**

> The U.S. draft ended in early 1973. To date, it has never been revived.
> 
> Written for the Me and Thee 100 prompt "Vietnam War."

“Seen the paper this morning?” Starsky asked.

Hutch pulled away from the curb and pointed his car toward Metro. “Starsk, I barely had time to shower and shave.”

“Overslept again, huh?” Starsky grinned. “Whassamatter, can’t you afford a decent alarm clock?” 

Hutch grunted. He hated oversleeping. It was guaranteed to make him feel rushed and frazzled all day.

“Well, anyway, it was on the front page that the draft is officially ending. They’re phasing it out, starting immediately.”

“Great. About damn time.”

Starsky cocked his head. “Say, Hutch, you never told me how you beat it.”

“How I beat what?”

“The draft, dummy. Did your dad pull some strings, or – ” 

“Hell, no. He’d have been glad to see me go.”

“Didya shoot yourself in the foot?”

Hutch laughed. 

“Nah, I’ve seen your feet, and I never noticed any scars.” Starsky poked him in the arm. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Starsk…” Hutch began, and trailed off. He didn’t like talking about Vietnam and the draft with Starsky. Starsky had been there, and had the Purple Heart to prove it. He knew Starsky didn’t judge him for his political convictions, but it made him uncomfortable anyway.

He took a deep breath. “I told the draft board I was gay.” 

“Wow,” Starsky said, after a moment’s silence. “And they believed you?”

“Apparently.”

“That took balls, buddy.”

_Not like it was a lie, buddy._ He didn’t say the words aloud. He couldn’t, not to Starsky.

Starsky laughed. “Good thing they didn’t check, huh? They’d have found out what a bullshit artist you are.” 

“Yeah,” Hutch said, shortly. “Good thing.” _Good thing you’ve never checked, too._ Not that Starsky would care. He had no reason to care.

Hutch sighed, and shot the briefest glance at Starsky’s jean-clad crotch. It was going to be another long day.


End file.
